


i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Cliche, Drunk Sex, Facials, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, Horny Teenagers, Im so sorry Clue characters, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasm, Rimming, Sex, Skiing, Snow, Snowed In, So many cliches, Teenagers, because of the alcohol, like all teenagers, my b
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 00:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12594432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: #31 - Because It's Cold OutsideTypical, cliché af snowed-in fic





	i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now)

**Author's Note:**

> Ty to my beta A as always!
> 
> I marked underage because Harry is 17 and Louis is 19 ~<3 perfectly legal for where they live but jic. I also marked dubious consent because they both would consent sober but they do the do drunk 
> 
> Title from Baby It’s Cold Outside (eyes emoji)

The sound of the power cutting off was pretty damn dramatic. The lights flickered a few times, before everything electronic went out with a cracking  _ bzzzzt _ that faded into complete silence. Harry blinked muzzily from where he’d been immersed in his notes for biology, frowning adorably, cozily situated in nothing but his pants on the couch.

 

He and Louis had taken off the extra long weekend to go skiing in France, a final hurrah before exams, and it had been a lovely 2 days of laughter, snow, spiked hot cocoa, and Harry making a right tit out of himself with his stupid, clumsy giraffe legs. Louis hadn’t seemed to mind though. They had a cute, private cabin separated off from the rest of the other cabins, Louis’ mum and his own springing for their nicest one in a somewhat effort to insure they’d be studying in between all their fun. 

 

It was a 1 bedroom, 2 bed, 1 bath situation, with a proper kitchenette, and a nice living area. Harry was just glad the WiFi was top notch, to be completely honest. And there was a mini bar— which they had definitely helped themselves to a little bit, as well as the surprisingly luxurious clawfoot tub in the loo. Well, at least Harry had. He’d even brought bath bombs, and had enjoyed a particularly relaxing, pink, and rose-scented, dip in the tub after a pretty nasty fall whilst on the slopes. Between Harry making dinner every night and Louis picking a movie, it had become quite domestic. Harry was truly living for it.

 

Dark clouds had rolled in around 9 that morning and started dumping fat, white flakes on the entirety of the the area, fast-falling as the wind picked up into a bit of a howling blizzard. It had gotten bad enough they’d closed the slopes and sent everybody back to their hovels for safety. Louis had drawn their curtains shut, “for coziness”, he’d said, “like a proper den, hibernation wise”, and truthfully, Harry had forgotten all about the weather after a hearty lunch of cheese toasties, a movie, and then a brief game of FIFA. 

 

It was pretty late in the evening, now, Harry having been completely zoned into the differences between eukaryotes and prokaryotes, and he’d just been considering standing up and making them some supper (he’d actually decided on stew, they’d had a very draining previous day with a lot of fun but exhausting new moves learned… or, well, Louis had. Harry still sometimes forgot that pizza meant slow down)— when the damn power went out. He wasn’t cooking now, that was for sure.

 

“Lou?” he called uneasily, standing up slowly. Harry pulled back the drapes and gaped, astounded by the meters of snow that had managed to pile up. The sun was nearly set outside, the last few dregs of pink and swirly purple fading out into the inky blackness of night time, and offered little help vision wise. Harry fumbled for his mobile and switched on his torchlight, setting his laptop aside and then lovingly closing the lid before he tried again. “Louis! Power's gone out!”

 

Getting a bit nervous, Harry fumbled his way back through the hall to the bedroom, eyes wide and searching desperately for his best friend. “Louis!” he called again, waving his phone around to look in all corners. “Lou!”

 

“S’that?” came a distinctly familiar, and grumpy, tone. “‘M in the loo, I was bloody mid-shower, sorry.” Louis loomed out of the dark like a wet, angry cockatiel, hair plastered to his forehead. He was barely hanging onto the towel wrapped around his waist, and Harry swallowed thickly as his adrenaline from the fear melted hot and sticky into arousal, pooling in his stomach like a molten hot core. His cheeks flushed and he looked away, clearing his throat. 

 

Louis… Louis was a little too gorgeous for Harry’s own good. They were mates, nothing more, just close friends who cuddled, and had nicknames, and matching boots and blankets. That was  _ all. _ Even, well. Even if Harry fairly desperately wanted more, which he did. He was absolutely terrified of ruining their bond however, of soiling their beautiful friendship— so. He kept fucking quiet about it.

 

“It’s okay, power’s out. ‘M gonna— the door? Try and see if we can get anybody out here to fix it.” Harry stuttered. With the heat shut off, Louis was beginning to shiver, damp as he was, and even Harry self-consciously covered his nipples from the cool draft. “Kay? Be back in a sec,” he hummed, hurrying out as Louis dropped his towel and reached for his suitcase with a grumble. Way, way, way too much pretty skin on display.

 

Harry threw on a pair of joggers, his coat, and his favorite boots, warm and worn and fuzzy, before he unlatched the lock. He tugged at the door, shivering as it opened up— and stopped, eyes widening. What the fuck? There was snow piled up past the door. The snow was as tall as he was. He sniffled unhappily, still shocked, calling for Louis. 

 

“Louuuu! We have an issue,” he fretted softly. “A big one.” Louis stumbled into the room, in the middle of pulling on joggers. 

 

“S’that? What’s wrong, love?” Louis huffed, looking up as he ran his hands through his hair. “What’s happening?” Harry wordlessly pointed at the wall of snow, frowning cutely. 

 

“Thaaaaat.” He stretched out again and puffed. “That is happening…” Louis was gobsmacked, silently staring with a blank look on his face. Harry huddled beside him timidly. “So.”

 

Louis blinked slowly. “That’s, that’s bad, H. We can’t dig out of it, shit. That’s gotta be— all the way to the fucking main lodge. Shit,” he cursed noisily. “Okay. Does your mobile still have some charge?” he asked, clearing his throat awkwardly. Harry bit his bottom lip and handed him his iPhone. Relieved, Louis called the main desk as Harry silently slipped into the kitchen. He found some candles, lit them, then went over to stoke their fireplace up, nice and hot, as Louis argued with somebody on the phone.

 

After a tense 5 minute conversation, Louis hung up with a noisy huff, throwing Harry’s phone onto the couch and squatting down beside him. Harry offered a tentative smile, watching the full kettle he’d placed in the flames begin to boil, slow but sure bubbles beginning to form. He took it down with oven mitts as it started to whistle.

 

“They know power’s out and they know we’re stranded— I guess almost everybody is,” Louis sighed moodily. “Their backup generators will kick on for emergency lights, stove, and basic heating any minute now, but it’s going to be a bit chilly and she advised us to turn your mobile off for now to call again tomorrow. She promised me we’d be out by our fly-home date,” he explained, as Harry listened attentively. He sighed at that, in slight relief; exams were safe.

 

“That’s… a bit shit,” Harry admitted. “I guess we’ll have to kick it old school for a day or 2. I saw some board games—“ and that was when the backup finally kicked on. A few small floodlights went on, a faint starting hum was heard from the heater, and Harry smiled to know the stove would work now. “Damn, you never think about how much shit uses electricity nowadays until it’s gone,” he snorted, as Louis bumped his shoulder with a toothy grin. 

 

Harry did end up fixing them stew and crackers that night, which they ate by the crackling fire whilst playing a very relaxed game of  _ Clue _ , in which Colonel Mustard did Miss Scarlet in the library with the anal beads. Somewhere between  _ Monopoly  _ (which Louis ended up throwing the board halfway through in a fit of frustration) and  _ Sorry _ , Louis pulled out a nice bottle of rosé from the mini fridge. They took nips from it all throughout  _ Scrabble  _ (“No, Louis, I don’t think vibey is a word, but I can’t google it to check, so fine”) and Harry was well-on his way to being plastered by  _ Twister.  _

 

And, god, that was a mess. Harry was an uncoordinated pile of limbs on his good days; twining around a cheerfully inebriated Louis Tomlinson while he himself was intoxicated was… an experience. He didn’t get hard from sheer force of will, but he couldn’t take much more than 20 minutes. 

 

“Uncle,” Harry hiccuped, sprawling out flat on his back. They’d gotten steadily more flushed and heated as they’d drunk, and both of them were just in pants and long, comfy jumpers now. “‘M crying uncle, Lou. N-no more, games  _ or  _ wine. ‘Ve had enough.” He groaned and shifted slightly with an exhausted grunt, smirking slightly as Louis flopped out gracelessly beside him, sighed, then popped up enough to crawl onto the couch and settle. Harry whined and made needy, grabby hands at him, lips pooching into an adorable pout. Louis heaved a sigh before twining their fingers tightly and hauling him up. They crashed into each other, Harry giggling like a loon, and Louis pulled him into a fierce hug.

 

“Mmm,” Louis huffed, burying his face in Harry’s curls with a content grumble. Harry gently rubbed his cheek against Louis’, until he was laughing so hard he hiccuped. “What are you, part cat, Hazza?” he asked with a crooked grin. Harry blinked slowly at him, bit his bottom lip, then smirked.

 

“Meow?” Harry offered. They dissolved into hiccupy laughter, both of them trying to make themselves comfortable on the little couch. Harry ended up pinned to the sofa with Louis on top of him— and  _ oh,  _ that was nice. Real nice. Too nice. Before he’d even realized what he was doing, he was rutting up against Louis’ thigh, mind a little hazy and body a little lax from their drinking antics. Louis stared down at him in shock, frozen. “Shit,” Harry bit out, panic flooding his voice as his eyes widened. “Shit, Lou, I’m so—“ Harry shivered in humiliation, shrinking down into the sofa and trying to hide his face with his hands, cheeks flushed with shame. 

 

“I— oh. Fuck, Harry, you’re so—,” Louis bit off a frustrated sound. “You’re so fucking hot, not even fair, looking at me like that, s’like a fucking  _ sin.”  _ Louis tugged his hands off his face with a growl of frustration, which made Harry’s stomach swoop and a ridiculous laugh bubble up out of his throat. “I want to kiss you always. S’all I think about, your big, dumb mouth, and your  _ hands,  _ and I’ve seen your dick, you shit, always strutting around  _ naked—“  _ Harry cut him off with a hysterical, weak ‘hah’ and then crashed their lips together.

 

He almost cut his bottom lip and their teeth clacked a few times, but then Louis was responding, eagerly, fingers catching in his curls and hauling him closer, closer,  _ closer.  _ Louis kissed him breathless and weak, insistent and demanding as ever, until they both had to pull back and just pant for a few seconds, great, huffing breaths. He was so hard, swollen in his pants, leaking profusely all over their front, and Louis’ matching bulge told a similar tale. Harry looked up at him, his wild hair that hadn’t lain quite right whilst drying, and his dark, dark eyes, and his red, swollen mouth, and felt a zip of pride and arousal zing through him. He’d done that. He’d made Louis look like that.

 

“S’no need to look so smug,” Louis snorted, self-consciously running a hand through his hair a few times. “You little shit. Let’s just— c’n I?” 

 

“Yes,” Harry was blurting before Louis could even ask. Kiss, touch, fuck— all of it. He wanted it all. Louis laughed weakly. 

 

“Harry, I could’ve been asking anything, you don’t just agree to that,” he scolded, staring down at him. Harry smiled wryly, beyond sheepishness.

 

“I want everything with you, I want— anything you want to do. ‘M yours,” Harry whispered, cheeks flooding with renewed heat. “Surely you knew.”

 

Louis took a ragged breath, then another, then kissed him again desperately. “That’s too much power, babes, I’ll go mad with it. Can, I want to— touch. I want to touch you…” Louis’ hands slid down and then tugged Harry’s jumper up past his nipples, hand wandering lower until fingers gently but firmly traced his crack through his pants. “Here. I want to touch you here,” Louis whispered, voice cracking, eyes dark and intense. 

 

“You can, fuck, Lou, of course. I want it,” Harry gasped, spreading his thighs, trying to reach down and get his briefs off. “You can, I— I’ve thought about it so much, touched myself. I. I want you to touch me there too. Please, fingers— in me,” Harry said shyly, looking away as embarrassment heated his face. Louis made a cut-off, choking sound, tugging Harry’s chin over to look him in the eye. 

 

“I want nothing more,” Louis promised, shivering. He scrambled up off of Harry’s thighs and tripped his way to the bedroom, as Harry sat up, tried to tame his curls a little, then slipped off his pants, sitting shyly with his too-big jumper tugged over his lap when Louis returned, triumphantly waddling, his cock caught uncomfortably in his pants, with a satchel of lube in his hand like a prize. Harry looked up at him and cleared his throat, embarrassment making him shy, hiding his throbbing cock and shivering as the head slipped free from his foreskin and grazed against the soft material of his sweater. The way Louis stopped and stared in clear amazement helped dissipate his nerves for him, though.

 

“Harry,” Louis whimpered. “You’re so, you’re fucking gorgeous, baby. So damn beautiful it makes me dizzy.” Harry smiled, head ducking briefly, then parted his thighs with heavy-lidded eyes. 

 

“Then come and get it, big boy,” Harry giggled, intending a joke, but Louis just growled and practically pounced on him. Harry keened, only like, a little bit, when Louis parted his legs more widely for him to set himself between, feeling exposed and a touch overwhelmed. One of his thighs ended up draped over the back of the couch, and Louis could see everything. Louis, ever the mindreader, gentled his touch and softened his desire.

 

“Easy, baby, let me really see you,” Louis coaxed, eyes glittering in the firelight as he bit his bottom lip and just  _ admired  _ the pretty, dusky pink hole on display for him. His little nest of pubes were trimmed neatly, and Louis licked his lips as he noted Harry apparently had dabbled with shaving his balls and arse crack. “Oh, you’re so pretty, darling, but so, so tight. Please, relax for me,” he begged, and Harry slowly unclenched his muscles and forced his racing heart to slow. “God, I want to— taste?” Louis asked, raw and near begging. Harry flushed again, but couldn’t help the little preen he did, flirty and teasing.

 

“Yeah— Yeah, please, help yourself,” Harry giggled, before gasping as Louis spread him wide and bent down to run his tongue in a broad swipe over his hole. The laughing disappeared quickly, instead turning into heavy, shivery moans and wet, muffled whines. Louis  _ feasted.  _ There was truly no other word for it, Harry felt like he was being devoured, little, daring nibbles around the rim before an insistent tongue was prodding inside. Harry shook, hands clenched around the couch as it creaked ominously, kicking his other leg out and breathing harshly as Louis pressed his hips down and mumbled for him to stay still.

 

Wanting to be good, Harry froze, muscles jumping in his abdomen as he whined raggedly when Louis came up for air, eyes dazed and mouth red, swollen, and raw-looking. He twitched, biting his own bottom lip, then let out a weak whimper. His eyes were glassy, his curls a bird’s nest around his face from the static of the sofa, and he was so hard it hurt, a little puddle of pre-cum pooled on his belly as it drooled nonstop from the tip of his red, angry cock where it peeked out of his foreskin. Louis almost swallowed his sore tongue.

 

“Fingers, Lou— please,” he begged.  _ “Please.”  _ Louis was never one to deny him anything, and, ignoring his own neglected erection from where it cried for relief in his pants, Louis quickly tore the lube open with his teeth— “foil in your teeth isn’t sexy, Lou”— and then wet a few fingers generously before easing Harry up a bit and getting a pillow under his bum. 

 

“‘M gonna take you apart, piece by piece,” he promised Harry weakly, heart just as full as his cock. “And then I’m gonna come all over your pretty face.”

 

Louis tenderly cradled his hips with one hand as he tapped at Harry’s clenching rim with the other, getting him to relax as he rubbed his thigh and slid the first finger in to the second knuckle. “There, there, s’a good boy,” he praised gently, as Harry whimpered and squirmed a bit. “S’a good boy,” he repeated, fascinated as he watched Harry’s body cling to his finger, trying to keep it in. “Holy fuck, babe… so tight, I—“ he exhaled loudly and started easing it out before sliding it right back in, Harry’s legs falling apart of their own accord as he begged for more. 

 

“Mmm, love how you sound when you’re like this,” Louis whispered throatily. “Just wanna hear you, baby,” he hummed, beginning to ease in a second finger as Harry began to wiggle impatiently and demand more. The litany of moaning that accompanied that made Louis grin like an idiot, his cock kicking wetly in his pants. Harry’s dick was just as eager, bouncing against his stomach with a sticky sound with every slight movement of Harry’s eager hips. He was very, very hard, and wet, pre-cum getting all up in his neat little bush of pubes as it leaked constantly down his shaft. Louis’ mouth watered, and he couldn’t resist ducking his head down to quickly mouth at the head, easing his foreskin back ever so gently.

 

“Louuuu,” Harry begged, entire body jolting at the wet heat of Louis’ mouth, voice cracking. “‘M close, please, three,  _ three!”  _ He ground back on Louis’ hand with a huff, white-knuckling the abused sofa and almost toppling Louis off when he shifted just wrong. Withdrawing, Louis laughed shakily and slid in a third digit with a groan of his own, Harry’s moan chasing it. Feeling a little overwhelmed as he pet Harry’s silky soft, hot walls, Louis twisted his fingers just right and jabbed his prostate— or he assumed so, from Harry’s short, cut-off  _ wail  _ and accompanying blurt of pre-cum. 

 

“‘M so— Louis, I-I-I,” Harry hiccuped, eyes squeezing shut as a few tears dripped down his red, red cheeks. He twitched, sniffling, and Louis took pity, blowing a nervous breath before gingerly wrapping his hand around Harry’s fat cock whilst simultaneously rubbing his prostate. Harry cried out, so Louis figured he must have been doing something moderately okay. “Lou,” Harry half-sobbed, hips torn between thrusting up into his hand and down onto Louis’ fingers. His dick made these sticky noises as Louis fisted him, getting his foreskin down so he could see Harry’s leaking tip, which drooled nonstop and smeared hot and wet all over his fingers. Louis felt like he had the entire world in his grasp, and he was heady with that power. 

 

“I got you, I got you,” Louis hummed fervently, watching him fall apart on his hands, and feeling deliriously turned on. “I’ve got you, baby,” he whispered, as Harry began to thrash, overstimulated and liking it. “Easy, easy, come on, can— can you come for me? Please?” Louis rasped, rubbing his prostate again and watching Harry start to shake, hands still obediently clutching the sofa as his cock twitched in Louis’ fist, his hips jerked, once, twice, and then he came with a heavy sob that ended in a choked-off breath. Hot spurts of pearlescent cum glazed his knuckles, and Louis almost got dizzy with his arousal. He shuddered himself, slowly pulling his fingers free with a wet squelch that made his cock  _ throb. _

 

“I’m— I’ve gotta— I’m gonna,” Louis panted, wheezing a little, sticky hands, oh  _ god  _ that was Harry's cum, going for his pants. He tugged them down under his balls, half clinging to his bum ridiculously, but he was so turned on it felt like he couldn’t even breathe right. “Oh  _ fuck,”  _ he gasped, arranging himself over Harry’s torso with a bubbling laugh that almost sounded more like hysterical crying. Christ, the things this boy did to him...

 

He pulled himself quickly, almost stripping his cock, Harry’s cum slicking the way, as he bent double and moaned, staring at Harry’s flushed, satisfied face. He thumbed his head on a downstroke, panting, before his orgasm hit him like a freight train when Harry opened his mouth and smacked his lips, sticking his tongue out. Louis felt it, a coil in his belly snapping like a thin wire as he was suddenly painting those pretty pink cheeks and red, red mouth with his release, hips jerking helplessly as he cried out and just let the sensation of pleasure so powerful it almost hurt sweep through him. 

 

He went limp and useless after, like most teenage boys, and decided collapsing into the tiny space of couch Harry wasn’t on as well as half on Harry was a good plan. They were sweaty, disgustingly so, just big messes with all sorts of bodily fluids and come all over them, and the sofa was  _ definitely  _ ruined, but Louis had never felt so satisfied in his fucking life watching Harry’s shy smile, one eye squinched shut from semen.

 

“Uhmmmm,” Harry drawled, giggling helplessly, “I need a shower, mister facial.” They were then both laughing, helplessly, weakly, intimately, Louis burrowing into him for warmth despite the fact it felt like they’d just gone 20 minutes in a sauna. 

 

“Christ. What’s a little cum in your eye between boyfriends,” Louis huffed, heart rabbiting in his chest all over again. Harry broke into an ear-to-ear grin, and he knew he had no reason to worry.

 

“Boyfriend, huh? Is that what we are?” Harry asked carefully, rubbing his eye with his sweater paw.

 

“Yeah. Boyfriends.” And that was that. The power coming back on could wait, the exams in just a few days time, the uncertainty of the future, hell, even the shower they desperately needed— it could all wait. At least, for these boyfriends it could. 

  
  
  



End file.
